


Comfort of a Heartbeat

by Lady_Quill



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Old Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Quill/pseuds/Lady_Quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin/Arthur, modern AU that takes place about 60 years after they've been together, a random conversation before bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort of a Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> I read a story about Merlin as an author where Arthur looks after him, and that was what gave me the idea. I don't remember which story it was or I would credit it! (if you happen to know what I'm talking about please let me know and I will amend the notes to include a link)
> 
> I came up with this kind of on a whim, so if you have any comments I'd love to get feedback.

His chest hurt, thinking of those arguments so long ago, of "what are you going to do when I'm not here?" If only they had thought this far, but he hadn't planned on being the first to go. Merlin always had the more delicate constitution and what with his eating and sleeping habits (though, over time and with Arthur's helpful prodding had become a bit more regular) Arthur never thought anything could go seriously wrong with his own health. They'd made it past their youth, the all-nighter’s and frantic arguments about making things work, past middle age and getting a grip on 'stability' and 'household,' past children who had to be read stories and got sent to the principal's office and went off to college and got married and had kids of their own. And now, only to go right back to the beginning, to think about what it meant for him and Merlin not to be together. The concept felt unnatural and disconcerting.

"What are you thinking?" Merlin put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, rousing him from his thoughts.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I'll fall asleep in a bit."

Merlin could feel the tension radiating from Arthur's side of the bed – he could whenever there was something serious weighing on Arthur’s mind. When they'd almost broken it off because of Arthur's father, when he and Gwen had fought, when Uther had passed on. Arthur would roll over, so Merlin couldn't see that his eyes were still open. But he knew better, knew that Arthur was merely staring into darkness with his hands in fists tucked under the pillow, a crease between his eyebrows betraying the state of his emotions.

He touched Arthur's shoulder again. "Come here?" Arthur took the invitation and was promptly wrapped in Merlin's embrace.

While Merlin had gotten stubborn in his old age ("I've lived bloody long enough I've earned it!" he would say whenever anyone took offense) Arthur had become more pliable. Merlin took great joy in running kids off his lawn, and Arthur would give out the best Halloween candy during trick-or-treating. It was trickier now doing those sorts of things in a nursing home. Sometimes it was lonelier - not having children around all the time, or no longer being in a place large enough to have a houseful of people for the holidays. Others weren't, like the activities and hall 'parties' that brought back memories of uni and getting friends to sneak alcohol into the dorms.

After the last appointment, Merlin had exuded a false sort of calm, but the truth was that he was scared shitless. He'd spent the past... 55? 60? years of his life with this man, and he hadn't thought about what it would be like without Arthur since he was in his 20s and wondering if maybe Arthur was gay too. They had been away from each other, certainly, when Merlin had taken a reporting job across the ocean and they didn't have enough money to visit each other more than twice a year, and when Arthur went back for his master’s degree while Merlin was on a book tour. And other things too, smaller things, like visits to family and conferences for work. But they would always find each other again. Over the phone, over Skype, Merlin would promise, "No matter what, I will come back to you. I always come back to you," and Arthur would breathe a sigh of relief (not that he would admit to it later) and say "Yes, you do."

"Who will take care of you when I'm not here?" Arthur finally voiced his thoughts, and Merlin tried to absorb the stress of it into himself, to bear the weight of unspoken fear so his lover would not have to.

"Oi! I do not need taking care of," he said with mock insult. "I can tell you’re pouting from here, you know."

Arthur was quiet a minute. "I know you can take care of yourself," he said finally. "I just... I don't..." I don't want you to have to, he thought. Because they took care of each other. That was how they worked: he took care of Merlin when he was sick or stressed beyond belief or unsure about the future, after Gaius and his mother weren’t around anymore. And Merlin took care of Arthur when no one else knew how, when he was struggling to break from his father’s hold on his future and his identity, when he wasn’t sure if he could let himself be honest about his sexuality. An equal exchange of hearts and souls; they were each other's ballast. And Arthur couldn't bear to think of them not doing that anymore. The ache from his chest moved behind his eyes where tears blurred his vision.

“I know.” Merlin held him until Arthur let himself cry, until Merlin’s nightshirt was soaked and Arthur was shaking and holding onto Merlin for dear life. Tomorrow it would be Merlin’s turn to cry and to panic, and for Arthur to hold him and shush him and tell him that everything would be ok in the end. A catharsis of sorts, a momentary release of emotions to restore balance, if only for the next 7 or 8 hours. 

"You're not going anywhere so fast, Arthur. You're still stuck with me for a while yet.” They could talk about this in the morning, when they were both clear-headed and caffeinated. Especially caffeinated.

“Ok,” Arthur said softly.

“Maybe we’ll have the grandkids over this month. They always cheer you up.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Don’t give me that. You were ready to keep Hannah – and she would have stayed, too – if her mother hadn’t insisted the visit was over,” he teased.

“Fine, fine.” When Arthur burrowed closer in Merlin’s arms, he knew his lover had given in, and would soon be asleep.

It’s not like they hadn’t see this coming for a few years, and they weren’t 20 anymore. But it hadn’t seemed so final, or so soon. They’d always talked about living as if the day was their last, but that seemed more like a metaphor than something… tangible. It was an effort each day to swallow the fear of the unknown. If Gwen weren’t still alive, Merlin had the vague notion that he’d probably go soon after Arthur did. Not necessarily on purpose, but a sense that the lack of will to live at his age would induce his body to shut down a little early. Gwen wouldn’t let him do that, though. Gwen would make sure he ate and slept and took his meds and had a reason to wake up in the morning. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe it wouldn’t. 

For now, at least, he could feel Arthur’s heartbeat against his chest and take comfort in one more night.


End file.
